


You can only scream. In frustration

by Narmie



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: I guess there isn't much plot there but, M/M, PWP, idk what that is truly, some sort of quarantine fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:15:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25629571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narmie/pseuds/Narmie
Summary: Timmy was horny.
Relationships: Timothée Chalamet/Armie Hammer
Comments: 34
Kudos: 120





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A few things I guess,  
> This is a quarantine fic of sorts, so I guess there might be not much sense into all of it.  
> I'm also posting this because I'm trying to get rid of everything that was somehow written, stuck in my google docs. The other option was deleting I suppose
> 
> It's fiction.

Timmy was horny. 

_Figures._

No surprises there. He was a healthy, young man. Of course, he was randy. But this wasn’t the problem. The problem was the fact that masturbation stopped helping him some time ago and now he was doomed. His hands were no longer any help and he was slowly sinking into sexual frustration. But this wasn’t all. Of course, it wasn’t. Because of quarantine - _fucking quarantine_ \- his roommate was all day at their apartment and when previously their schedules seemed to be planned for them to avoid each other, so they rarely had seen one another, maybe just occasionally on weekends when Tim was curing his hangover, now he was all the time between those four walls they shared. Which only meant Tim couldn’t even wank in peace. Not that he could even wank at the moment - or at least wank and come - but semantics. He really needed something more. And an empty apartment. But that was not likely to happen.

He tried to jack off in the shower, hoping the water cascading from the showerhead would mute any additional sounds. It was even nice. He was all wet, his one hand widely spread on the tiles when the other was working on his shaft. Up and down, up and down. His teeth biting purposely into his bottom lip to keep sounds from pouring out. He was even close, that one time, but then Armie hit the door to the bathroom asking how long Tim would be there because he really needed to pee. Which, rude but also a fucking boner killer. He was grumpy through the rest of the day, staying in his bed and tossing from left to right trying to occupy his mind with something else than the need of his dick to come. He only moved once, going into the kitchen to grab some chocolate cookies that served him as both lunch and dinner. Which you know also made him think about poor his life choices and why even in quarantine he couldn’t pick up something like yoga but spent his days in bed, eating cookies. 

The next time he was simply lying on his bed, the sheets pushed to the end of the bed, draped loosely around his left ankle. He already threw his boxers somewhere on the floor, keeping his shirt on because he wasn’t that troubled with it. His right knee was lying bent on the side and he had his hand wrapped around his shaft, slowly working it out. Letting himself sink into the sensation. It was late, the apartment was quiet except his breath coming in short pants that he tried to muffle by hiding his face in his shoulder. The darkness and silence were surrounding him and with every move, every upstroke he was seeing himself coming, finally reaching that place of happiness only by pushing the seed out of his dick.

_Bang_

He froze, his hand coming into a halt on his cock, his eyes wide open now, getting used to the darkness. And then he heard Armie peeing. Because, of course, the fucker had to go to the bathroom and fucking urinate. And of course, Tim’s room had to be adjacent with the bathroom. Of course, he had to hear everything. And if that wasn’t a boner killer, Tim didn’t know what could be. If hearing someone urinating and grunting like an old man then really. He had no other ideas. 

The case of his blue balls wasn’t even sad. It was simply pathetic at this point. And worst of it was that Armie hadn’t even known he was cockblocking him. Why would he?! 

Tim was lounging on the couch, flicking through channels trying to find something - _anything_ \- worth watching, that wouldn’t be all the talk about the virus since he was already fed up with this or talking on how to be productive during this abnormal time. He already knew he wasn’t productive at all, no one had to remind him about this. _Thank you very much and fuck off by all means._

He didn’t really want to watch cooking shows, because he would get hungry and make some poor attempts on making something fancy but still edible just to be disappointed at the end that he couldn’t really make himself a decent meal. He didn’t want to see any tv series, because or he didn’t know the plot and it was stupid to watch without knowing what was going on. Or he didn’t want to start anything new, knowing well how that might end. Which you know. The usual. Binge-watching 2 seasons of the series in one night and becoming zombie at some point that clearly didn’t need any sleep. He finally decided on some document about wild bears in Russia. At least they were cute. His restless hands skimmed over his skin, bumping against the hunched material of his shirt. His dick twitched interested in his boxers. Already filling up. He gave it a lazy tug, out of boredom it seemed. Disheartened in his efforts, because nothing seemed to do the trick these days and make him come. He already realized what he needed was another human. A hand of another human on his dick would suffice. He honestly didn’t expect much. He closed his eyes, lazily stroking himself from the root to the top, flicking a wrist around the head as he liked to. 

Some thought was nudging at his brain that perhaps it was not the best idea to wank on the sofa in the living room, but Tim couldn’t be bothered by it at the moment. Already lost in the feeling of slowly crawling closer to the climax. Even when all the deities were against him. His breath hitched on one purposely tighter stroke, a choked moan escaping his lips. He could already see himself climaxing almost like a person in the dessert seeing mirage. It was within his reach. His fingertips already brushing over it.

“Whatya doing Timo”

His hand froze on his dick and he pulled it immediately a second later out from his joggers, wiping the pre-come on the couch when Armie plopped next to him, making Tim crouch his legs. 

He was sure if a glare could kill, Armie would already be dead. And Tim was getting fed up with this. And that could only end badly. 

_/ - /_

It was one of many days. Almost the same as the rest, indifferent as so many in quarantine. He was in the kitchen, getting himself his first mug of coffee. In a foul mood already, despite getting up late. All because his morning wood was rather persistent, and yet his orgasm never came. Even after he spent about half an hour trying, and it only resulted in his wrist aching, and his cock a bit chaffed. Anyone would understand to not come near him at this state, his brows furrowed, his shoulders slumped and his mouth a tight line. Anyone save his roommate. 

“Ooh someone woke up grumpy” Armie said walking into the kitchen space shirtless with a firm layer of sweat covering his skin, his voice teasing. Most probably he had his morning home workout, the fucking weirdo he was. It was not that Tim didn’t appreciate his roommate in _that_ particular state, it was more him being sexually frustrated, Armie’s state of undress not helping at all and his annoying tone that was playing on Tim’s nerves. 

All he wanted to accomplish on this 47 day of lockdown, was to finally come. And yet, there he was. Frustrated and annoyed. 

And his friends asked him why he was losing track of time. 

He reached for the coffee and grimaced swallowing the lukewarm liquid. It was yesterday’s and he couldn’t be arsed about it, since making a fresh one would acquire too much strength and trouble. He probably should eat something, but the damn toast didn’t sound so encouraging. He was torn because while he really didn’t want to make anything elaborate, requiring his time and effort, he would also rather eat something pretty delicious and fatty than yet another toast. He sighed, considering if it was possible for him to survive on that old greek yoghurt he had in the fridge till the evening. Maybe then he would have some energy to cook something. Or perhaps he would just get something delivered. Pizza. Yeah, he would get himself a pizza. 

He sighed resigned, comforting himself that at least the evening held a promise of something better. 

“Oh lord,” he heard Armie mutter when he moved past him in the direction of the fridge. 

“What?” Tim asked bitterly, brushing his hair out of his eyes and turning his head to the left to look at him

“Just sit there and wait. I’ll cook something for ya” Armie finally responded as if disappointed with Tim and his attitude, he pushed past him to get to the fridge. His hands grabbing Tim by his hips, his crotch for a split second snug against Tim’s ass. Their kitchen wasn’t spacious, but damn even for Tim it was too much and he could feel his cock twitch in his pants. He murmured something, cheeks flushed in embarrassment and seated himself on a high stool, trying to will his dick to behave. But even the sight of Armie’s backside was too much to handle in his frustrated state of sexual tension. He bit his lip, crossing his legs and wished for a bucket of cold water. His grumpiness fading away supplanted with unresolved tension in his joints and the need to come painfully tight in his balls. 

But as he already knew, there wasn’t much he could do. 

When it finally happened, it wasn’t accompanied by bursting fireworks, a volcano erupting or dramatic music blasting through the speakers. It was more like an ultimate slide, like something that was bound to happen and didn’t surprise anyone. Like breathing heavily right when the timer stopped. 

Like most days, Tim was in his room. Lying on the bed in his grey hoodie (pulled firmly over his head, some of his hair peeking out) and soft, squared boxers, absently stroking his cock from time to time, while watching some comedy. It was just a relaxing part of the day, which one he wasn’t quite sure since everything was rather merging into one entirety. Another one of quarantine idiosyncrasies, the night blurring with the day until you were losing any sort of time recognition and even looking out of the window wouldn’t help.

He wasn’t focusing particularly on the hand shoved down his boxers, mostly aware of what he wished for wouldn’t really happen. Yet, his mind was pleasantly fuzzy, perhaps for that one beer he drunk five minutes ago on an empty stomach, or because he had woken up from a rather delightful nap, and he was still soft and warm all inside. Whatever it was, he shuffled backwards, just a bit, spreading his legs, giving himself better access. His eyes shut closed, his teeth digging lightly into his bottom lip. Out of habit perhaps than as a try to muffle spilling sounds. Raking up his hoodie and bunching down his boxers, Tim got into a more comfortable position. Still in that pleasant state, a little bit drowsy from sleep. Warm in his belly. The laptop still playing in the background but only adding noises to the constant buzz. The drowsiness evaporating through his pores, the sultry atmosphere of the room a perfect addition to his lazy, lethargic movements. He was not entirely conscious, or at least the thought of not being able to come for weeks now hadn’t penetrated his mind fully when his hand was moving up and down, and up and down in indolent strokes. It was like finally having this sweet peace settled around him. When he didn’t have to hastily chase the _so-wanted_ release. Nothing was important. Not even the time, because somehow he knew it would come. That it would happen. And he just had to wait. And enjoy. Until it ripped through him like a final crash. 

_‘Just wait’_ his subconscious was whispering. 

And he was feeling it. In the tightening of his balls. In his ragged breath coming in short pants. In a way, the pre-come was oozing from the head, making the slides smoother. Almost there. His toes curling around the invisible but still very real edge, waiting for that final push. For that ultimate wave that would crash through him, tearing everything apart and taking him with it. Just a second, just a fraction to tip over the imperceptible line. 

A loud knock mercifully penetrating his drowsy mind. Door opening a split second later. 

“Fuck” he sworn, pushing his hoodie down to cover his deflated cock. Looking up angrily, meeting Armie’s eyes, stuck on him “What the fuck is _your_ fucking problem?!” 

“My problem?!” Armie’s voice was confusing, incredulous even. That earned him an icy-cold glare. Shuffling, Tim put his boxers back on and scrambled to stand. His face flushed, both with embarrassment and anger. 

“Yeah. I can’t even wank in peace because of you. You are always fucking there, barging in on like a fucking lunatic that thinks he owns the place” his fingers pointing, poking Armie’s chest, still sticky from his precome, leaving a dark spot on Armie’s tee. 

He knew most probably he sounded stupid. But he was fucking frustrated, and seconds ago on the cusp of having the most shattering orgasm of this quarantine. So-fucking-awaited. If not for a fucking Hammer. 

He really wasn’t asking for much for fuck sakes. 

“In my own room or a fucking bathroom. I don’t have peace to toss one out.”

He knew he was more or less rambling. Out of frustration. And annoyance. Pouring out everything stuck in his head. Like a never-ending litany of profanities.

“Jesus. Do you ever shut up?” Armie said exasperated when Tim finished at last 

Tim’s eyes widened horrifically at the words. And that was what did it. 

He lunged forward. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This possibly has a lot of mistakes. So be aware.  
> Thank you for reading!

In the hindsight, Tim wouldn’t say it was the perfect solution. To his problem -- sexually frustrated gate, SFG in short -- certainly yes. But not really to the argument they were having at the time. Tim wasn’t an aggressive person, going with punches to reduce his anger. But even he had his limits. He was also very frustrated and Armie was a walking irritation, getting Tim so worked up he could barely see straight and leaving him there to just suffer through yet another failed attempt. It was not surprising that Tim was attracted to him. Because fuck everyone and even their grandma would have been after just seeing him. Or maybe shirtless and sweaty. As Tim had to suffer several days a week because Armie loved his at home workouts. Attracted to his roomate deal was sealed after that one time when Tim walked straight into the bathroom when Armie was having a shower and had more than a glimpse of Armie’s delicious backside. He had just woken up, that was his cover story. All in all, the quarantine made it all even harder. Metaphorically and realistically. Maybe that was why Tim wanted to punch Armie, right in his beautiful face, and then perhaps ride him until he would be sore in all the right places, and then some more. 

Of course, when he finally snapped, he didn’t even think about anything, other than trying to connect his fist with Armie’s face. Or nose. Or jaw. Anything would work. But he didn’t take into consideration the difference in their heights, so he punched him straight into solar plexus, knocking the air out of him in a hissing ‘oosh’ that left Amie’s mouth. Tim stood there, perplexed, watching Armie struggling for breath. A couple of seconds passed before his brain caught up with what was going on.

“FUCK. Oh fuck. Armie, fuck” he moved closer, kneeling in front of him. Armie was hissing through his clenched teeth, his hand on his chest “Hey, hey, hey just look at me, please” he slowly raised his hand and gently cupped Armie’s face making him look up “There you are” he said and smiled reassuringly, even though it was all his fault “Just breathe with me okay? In … and out”. Armie’s eyes were crystal from the tears, wetting his eyelashes, glistening in the soft light, while he was looking straight at Tim, boring his gaze into him. 

But Tim noticed that he was finally breathing almost normally, taking the air deep into his lungs and breathing out audibly through his mouth. He also became aware of the silence surrounding them. And how his fingers were still carefully grasping Armie’s face.

“Jesus, I’m sorry” he finally whispered, letting go and scouting backwards a bit. Armie’s blue eyes still boring into him as if he wanted to swim around his thoughts and pluck around all of his desires. He was fucking desperate for Armie to say something. Anything. Even if it was to say he was a fucked up asshole. Or a freak, or to go fuck himself and look for some new roommate to live with because he was fucking done. 

He was expecting outrage, anger, some screaming. Maybe some door slamming for a good effect but he most certainly didn’t expect that. For Armie to crawl closer to him, his hand coming to rest on the centre of his chest, slowly pushing against him until he laid on the floor and Armie was atop of him. The thought that Armie would punch him straight in the face flicked across his mind. But there was something glimmering behind his eyes. Sparkles of something he couldn’t quite decipher yet. Holding his breath he waited.

“You can be so fucking thick sometimes” Armie whispered, his lips barely above Tim’s, breath tickling Tim’s skin. The last thing Tim expected was to be kissed, lips firmly locked, in a very sweet and gentle way, not even close to the outrage they were feeling mere seconds ago. But Armie wasn’t forcing him, punishing him with bruising and hard kisses. It was slow and delicate, hesitant in a way his mouth was nipping at Tim’s bottom lip, in a way his tongue was licking the seam of Tim’s lips, coaxing him. As if asking for permission. Until Tim realized that was exactly what Armie was doing, silently asking for his permission to kiss him. He groaned, low in his throat, Armie’s mouth swallowing the sound, before he dived right into it, kissing him senselessly, gripping his hips tightly. Armie responded in kind. Attacking his mouth with more force and persistence, licking the inside of Tim’s mouth delightfully. 

Tim wasn’t even aware that he started to grind on Armie, pinned by him to the floor. It was an exquisite feeling, even though he surely needed more. 

“Fuck” he breathed when Armie started nosing his jawline, the expanse of his throat, the back of his earlobe. Nibbling. Kissing. Biting. “Fuck me”

“That could be arranged” 

He laughed, throatily, watching Armie through half-lidded eyes, a mischievous smirk curving his face. Tim bit his lower lip, his hands sneaking down Armie’s sides and gripping his asscheeks, before answering.

“Prove it”

He honestly didn’t expect Armie to haul him up and stand up, he squealed in surprise, wrapping his legs around Armie’s waist and letting him manhandle him as he wished. 

He didn’t have any objections whatsoever.

Armie was watching him bounce on the mattress after he unceremoniously tossed him on the bed. 

His own bed. 

The bed he tried to jack off for weeks now. Futily, one should remember. 

The bed in which he fantasized about Armie. Many  _ many _ times.

He shuddered, delighted by this new outcome. He didn’t even consider Armie was into guys. Or into him. To be fair he was almost certain Armie had no idea Tim was bi. They really sucked as roommates. Pun intended. 

He licked his bottom lip, watching Armie’s hungry gaze raking over him. 

“You just gonna stare or … “ he trailed off, enough for Armie to know exactly what he was talking about

“I love the sight,” he said, unbothered, unhurriedly letting his eyes drop from Tim’s face to his crotch, when his cock was already tenting his sweatpants. “Change of plans, I won’t fulfil my promise” Armie added then, making Tim stiffen, the sinking feeling of Armie not wanting him rising in his gut “I want to ride you” he proclaimed like it was the most natural thing to say, before crawling all over Timmy and kissing the daylight out of him. Tim groaned at the assault, at the bare image of Armie moving up and down on him, his cock bouncing with the movements, his abs flexing, the muscles of his thighs contracting the longer it went. 

He was so fucking ready for it. 

They quickly got rid of clothes, and Armie whined obscenely, noticing that Tim wasn’t wearing any underwear underneath his sweats. Tim looked at him smugly then, admitting that most of the time he was wandering around their apartment balls-free, making Armie swear under his breath before attacking Tim’s mouth again with another ferocious and bruising kiss. 

Armie snatched lube from Tim’s hands, before leaning down and nipping at his lips, whispering to him ‘next time’. The warmth spreading inside him at hearing those words, his mind already on its way to imagine million other possibilities on where, how and for how long. He was pulled from his fantasy of rimming Armie against the counter in the kitchen when Armie pressed his fingers inside, sighing softly at the intrusion. Choked-off noise left his mouth when Armie opened his eyes and met his gaze, rocking on his fingers, his lips parted. Tim’s cocked twitched at the sight, at the hunger he recognized in Armie’s eyes, the tip leaking pre-come onto the inside of his pale thigh. 

When Armie finally rolled the condom over him and slicked it with lube, Tim was panting harshly, cheeks flushed and sweat gathering over his skin, trailing down from the hollow of his throat, down his collarbones, falling on the sheets. 

“Ready?” Armie asked softly, peppering his lips with small kisses. Tim nodded, his hands comfortingly moving up and down Armie’s sides, reassuring. He gripped Tim’s cock in his hand, pressing the tip against his entrance and slowly sinking down. 

If Tim thought it would be hard and fast from then, he was utterly mistaken. It seemed as Armie’s goal was to slowly drive him insane. He was undulating his hips, leisurely moving up and down, like he was exactly where he wanted to be and there was no hurry, no urgency. And when Tim tried to speed up the pace, Armie spread his hands over him, one over his hip the other higher, over his chest, pinning him down, cutting off his range of movements. He panted harshly, when Armie rocked onto him again, pinching Tim’s nipple. 

It was maddening. Wonderfully so. It was as if Armie knew how to drive him insane with lust, always backing off when he was almost on the edge, stopping for a second, decreasing the pace, starting to rock again as the urgency subsided. Lazily at first, hastening the rhythm in time, slowing down at Tim’s thrusting his hips up, igniting the delirious circle again. 

“Fuck” Tim breathed, feeling Armie’s ass clenching deliciously around his cock. And then without any warning, Armie started to fuck him in earnest, moving up and down in furious pace, stroking his cock in matching rhythm, clearly chasing his own pleasure, egoistically almost. Tim couldn’t take it anymore, thrusting inside Armie’s tight heat with all the strength he still had in him. It didn’t take long, considering he was already on the edge for the most of their fucking time, before he was coming inside Armie, his orgasm rippling out of him like a tidal wave, so sweet, so delirious, so long-awaited. Armie followed suit, painting Tim’s chest in white stripes of come, his ass clenching around Tim’s cock, milking the last drops of his release out of him. Leaving him warm, satiated and melted from the inside out. 

When he woke up, the sweat was cool on his skin, making him shiver, come had already dried on his belly, and Armie was laying on top of him, almost crushing him with his weight.

Blinking a couple of times, he caught Armie looking at him, dopily, pushing away doubts creeping over him.

“Let’s eat some mac and cheese,” Armie said, kissing his earlobe, nuzzling his neck “And then you can tell me everything about that sexual frustration you had going for weeks” 

“I hate you” 

Armie chuckled, before leaning down and kissing him. 


End file.
